


detention

by thehearsesong



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Drug Use, F/F, High School AU, Implied pedophilia, M/M, Underage Drinking, and patrick didnt really fit what i needed him to be for plot whoops, nothing graphic or sexual tho, patrick is basically reg tho bc i love reg and obvs he's not in the show, sort of parallels canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:23:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehearsesong/pseuds/thehearsesong
Summary: high school au in which stoner/potential dropout todd brotzman befriends weird new kid dirk gently while his burnout sister amanda befriends captain of the step team farah black and the discover some messed up shit the asshole dean of students is getting up to





	1. Chapter 1

Todd was one more fucking detention away from leaving high school and never coming back. It’s not like he really needed to be there, anyway. Everyone knew that he had no prospects in life. A high school diploma wasn’t going to fix that. And at least if he dropped out, he could smoke and play guitar in peace without some asshole dean trying to guilt trip him for it.

“Mr. Brotzman, is that a cell phone I see?” Speaking of asshole deans…

Wilson wasn’t Todd’s worst enemy, but they definitely weren’t allies. At the present moment, though, Todd couldn’t be too pissed at her. She hadn’t dug his stuffy, paper-scented, grave. No, that honor went to Friedkin.

Todd thought that he would do pretty much anything to spite Friedkin. And Todd knew Friedkin would do the same for him. Just as Todd’s attempts at ditching class were getting more and more creative, so were Friedkin’s punishments.

And apparently, Friedkin couldn’t be assed to even administer Todd’s detention himself today. Todd didn’t blame him. If he could have forced a co-worker to sit in an overheated classroom for an hour and a half after school instead of doing it himself, he would have in a heartbeat.

Today’s punishment wasn’t the worst that Todd had endured as of late, but it wasn’t a normal detention, either. In fact, this punishment didn’t only affect Todd. Friedkin had turned the heat on in the whole building and then gone home, probably with some bullshit excuse as to why, leaving Todd, Wilson, and any poor soul stuck in an afternoon club to rot in the hell he’d personally created.

Wasn’t the worst afternoon Todd had ever had.

* * *

 

 

Amanda was pissed. Okay, not  _ pissed _ pissed, but she wasn’t happy. She couldn’t remember the last time Todd hadn’t been in detention after school. Normally, that didn’t bother her, but normally Martin didn’t have the fucking flu and she had a ride home.

Todd’s shitmobile was her only way of getting home, but she still had 45 minutes to waste outside alone while he roasted inside. She should have just walked with the rest of the guys to Vogel’s house, her mother’s “come straight home” be damned.

“Hi…” came a timid voice from somewhere behind Amanda’s perch on the curb.

Whipping around, she asked, “Who’s there?”

On the sidewalk stood a boy Amanda was vaguely familiar with, but had never spoken to. He was gangly to the point of being comical, and he looked extremely uncomfortable approaching her. Or maybe he was just overheated from wearing a fucking button-up shirt in August.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Dirk,” he said. “And you are...?”

“Amanda.”

“Right.” He paused for a moment and fidgeted with his collar. Amanda felt a little sorry she had been so curt.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” she said hastily, “do you wanna sit?” She motioned to the curb next to her.

“Oh, yes thank you,” Dirk replied eagerly.

“So…” Amanda said after a pause, “why are you here this late?”

“Oh, I had detention,” Dirk said. Amanda thought he sounded far too cheerful about it.

“Oh shit man, what’d you do?”

“Oh, um, I think the dean just doesn’t like me very much.” Dirk seemed reluctant to share this piece of information, which only furthered Amanda’s confusion towards how cheerful he seemed to answer her first question.

But at this point, she was determined to be sympathetic, if only to find out more about this weird, friendly, admittedly kind of cute boy.

“Friedkin?” Dirk nodded. “Yeah, he hates my brother, too. I think he’s just a dick, to be honest.”

“Could not agree more. Did you know he turned on the heat in there? It’s 3--sorry, 80 fucking degrees out. And what’s worse is he couldn’t even be bothered to show up. He had some teacher sit with me for a half an hour.”

“That’s weird,” Amanda said, “Todd got an hour and a half.”

“That is weird,” Dirk agreed. “But I think perhaps part of it may have been my uncle. He can’t get me out of all punishments, but he has some pull in the school district so I never get anything too harsh. Well, at least nothing that other people will be able to tell is too harsh. Like he can get away with the heat, but probably not with keeping me for more than an hour.”

Amanda nodded. “That makes sense. Oh, also before I forget: where are you from?”

Dirk’s face lit up. “England! I used to live in London before I moved here to Seattle to live with my uncle.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. Is there any particular reason you moved in with your uncle?”

Dirk seemed to close off again. “Uh, not really. He was just lonely, I think, probably.”

“Right.”

Dirk was fucking weird. Amanda loved him already.


	2. Chapter 2

Todd was frankly impressed with how inventive Friedkin was getting. Today’s detention featured a senile English teacher who insisted on singing loudly along with shitty britpop, and a fellow student who genuinely seemed to be enjoying the music.

“Oh, I love this song!” the other boy in detention exclaimed. Mr. Spring grinned at him.

_ Suck up,  _ Todd thought.

Silently, Todd sized up his new detention-mate. He was tall. Even sitting, he towered over Todd. Not that that was much of an accomplishment, but he towered more than usual, Todd thought. He wore a white button-up shirt paired with a hideous yellow jacket that clashed obnoxiously with his auburn hair. Todd’s first instinct was to hate this boy and his stupid, cute, cheerful face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe I asked your name,” came the boy’s voice from Todd’s left shoulder, jarring him out of his reverie. 

“Uh, Todd.”

The boy nodded as if this were the most important information he had received all day. “I’m Dirk. Dirk Gently.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Todd. It was definitely not nice to meet Dirk. In fact, he wished he was anywhere except in the presence of Dirk. 

“You as well!” Dirk replied.

_ God, this dude has got to stop ending every sentence with an exclamation point. _

__ “Why are you even here?” Todd snapped.

“I have detention.”

Todd glared at Dirk. “How did you get detention?”

“Oh, right.” Dirk paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “I pissed off the dean.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. He considered pressing further, but Dirk’s expression hardened, and something in his eyes made Todd decide against it.

“Me too,” he simply said.

* * *

  
  


There was a deafening crash as a cymbal toppled over. Vogel had the decency to look sheepish as he began to painstakingly upright each part of the set.

In the tradition of many great Seattle bands, The Rowdy Three met in Vogel’s parents’ garage. Their instruments and equipment was a mismatched set pulled together from various local Goodwills, and their band members were an equally motley crew. 

Martin, Gripps, Cross, and Vogel had earned the nickname of “The Rowdy Three” around their high school for being, well, exactly that. Wherever the boys went, chaos followed. The only reason they weren’t in and out of detention as often as Todd was because the deans were afraid of getting their offices trashed again.

“Hey Amanda,” said Cross.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“It might, uh, piss you off, I don’t know…”

“Spit it out!” Gripps called from across the garage. Amanda giggled.

“Fine, Jesus,” Cross continued, “So, your eyeliner is amazing, right? How come your handwriting is so bad?”

“Oh shit!” Vogel exclaimed.

“Shut up and clean up!” Gripps and Cross said in unison.

“But like for real,” Gripps said, “he’s got a point. You suck at drawing, too.”

“You fuckin’ done?” Amanda asked. There was a pause.

“You can’t write in a straight line on unlined paper,” Martin added impishly.

The boys erupted into a cacophony of laughter and half-formed insults, until Amanda had to beat the cymbal from the drum set a few times to shut them up.

“Sorry, drummer girl,” said Martin, “the rowdy boys get excited.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

* * *

 

 

Todd was midway through constructing a plan to murder each individual Spice Girl in various creative ways when the music suddenly stopped.

Todd’s head shot up and he looked around for the bringer of his salvation. The only other person in the room was Dirk.

“Well, we survived!” Dirk chirped. “One detention down.”

Todd blinked. “It’s over?”

Dirk nodded. “It’s been an hour. Mr. Spring already left. I honestly think he forgot we were here.”

“Right.” Todd took a breath before grabbing the tattered notebook that served as all of his school supplies and turning towards the door.

“Wait.” Dirk’s voice gave Todd pause just long enough for Dirk to add, “I think we could be great friends, you and I. I met this girl named Amanda yesterday and she looked a little intimidating but she was really very nice and I think maybe--”

“I know Amanda.”

“Oh do you?” Dirk asked excitedly. “Are you friends already? That’s fantastic, actually, because that saves me the trouble of introducing you--”

“She’s my sister,” Todd cut him off again.

“Really?” Dirk said. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I see the resemblance. She’s very tall and pretty and also  _ very  _ nice, like I said before--”

“I know. I know Amanda is great. Go befriend her and leave me the fuck alone.”

Dirk’s face fell marginally. “Do you not want to be friends? I thought we bonded, honestly. Detention is supposed to do that, isn’t it? Like in  _ The Breakfast Club  _ or  _ Lemonade Mouth _ …”

Dirk trailed off as he realized that Todd was no longer in the room. Todd was, in fact, almost all the way through the school parking lot, hoping to make it home before Dirk realized he was missing. Todd’s luck, however, never held up for that long.

Dirk jogged lightly down the sidewalk in front of the school and fell into step beside Todd.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he began, but Todd spoke before he could continue.

“Why are you still here?”

“I told you, we’re friends.”

“We are not friends, Dirk. We met an hour ago and frankly, I don’t like you.”

This admission did not appear to faze Dirk.

“Well that can be helped. All the best friendships started out with someone disliking someone.”

Todd looked at him blankly. “What friendship has ever started with disliking each other?”

“Um, well, there was Princess Leia and Han Solo and um, Taylor Swift and Kanye, and uh, probably some others…”

“Since when are Taylor Swift and Kanye West friends?”

Dirk paused for a moment. “I have no idea, but I saw an interview with Taylor on youtube the other day and she seemed to think they were friends.”

“You’re fucking weird, Dirk.”

“I’m aware. Friends?” He held out his hand to Todd.

Todd sighed. “If you piss me off, I reserve the right to pretend I never met you.”

“Deal.” Dirk grinned, even as he awkwardly lowered his hand when Todd refused to take it.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Todd added.

“Anything within reason,” Dirk said.

“Shut up.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay, good practice everyone! See you all Saturday!” Farah called towards the retreating backs of her teammates. 

Coach Diaz paused next to Farah. “I think you girls are going to do fantastic this weekend.”

Farah felt a grin split onto her face. “Thanks, Diaz. I’ve--we’ve worked really hard the past few weeks and I hope--”

“You worked really hard, Farah,” Diaz interrupted her. “The whole team has, but you’ve been a great captain.”

Farah’s smile grew impossibly wider. “Thanks.”

“Don’t slack, now,” Diaz called over her shoulder as she left the gym, leaving Farah alone in the half light of a deserted school.

Suddenly, Farah whirled around at the sound of a door opening at the other end of the gym. She didn’t speak, but instead waited for the figure of a tall, slim girl dressed in black to come into view.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realize there were still people here,” Amanda said as she spotted Farah.

“It’s okay,” Farah replied, “I was about to leave anyway.”

“Are you in a sport or something? Is that why you’re here so late? I’m Amanda, by the way,” she added with a laugh.

“I’m Farah. And yeah, I’m on the Step Team. Our practice just ended. Are  _ you _ in a sport?”

Amanda laughed breathlessly. “Uh, not exactly. I’m here for more, uh, delinquent-y reasons…”

Farah frowned. “You aren’t planning on vandalizing anything, are you? Because you seem nice and all, but I can’t let you do that--”

“No, god no. I wouldn’t vandalize the school. Some of my friends might, but that’s not my problem, frankly. No I just want to fix a couple of gym grades.”

“That’s still very against the rules…” 

“I know,” Amanda said, “but it doesn’t really hurt anyone. The gym teachers--let’s be honest--don’t have enough brainpower to notice a small change and it keeps me from failing.”

Farah considered. “Fine, I won’t turn you in, but just know that I don’t approve.”

Amanda grinned. “That’s okay. Wanna come with anyway?”

Farah considered for a moment, then nodded and followed Amanda, suppressing excited laughter threatening to bubble up from her chest. She almost resented the fact that she could have fun breaking the rules… almost.

* * *

  
  


Todd wasn’t high enough for this shit. Mr. Spring was droning on about  _ The Things They Carried,  _ some jock was arguing with his friend about which member of Little Mix was “the most fuckable” and worst of all, Friedkin was lurking in the corner. 

Dirk leaned over from his seat next to Todd and whispered, “Why is he here? Well, I know  _ why _ he’s here, but why is he the one doing evaluations? I doubt he’s qualified. Honestly, I don’t think he’s qualified to even work here because he’s  _ such _ an asshole but…”

Todd tuned Dirk out and focused instead on a poster on the wall. It featured a cat holding onto a branch with one paw and the caption “Hang in There!”

Bullshit. High school was bullshit. No one was hanging in anywhere in high school. All anyone could manage was not hanging themselves, and even that didn’t always work.

Dimly, Todd was aware of the sustained beep that they called a bell. He thought he had gotten up, but then he felt Dirk grabbing his arm and he numbly followed him outside.

“Dirk, what the hell?” he asked.

“You weren’t moving,” Dirk replied, still dragging him down the sidewalk.

“Yeah, but don’t we have to go to class now? Or detention, or… something?”

Dirk finally paused and dropped Todd’s arm. “Well, yes technically we do both have a class. And then a detention… b-but we’re not going!”

Dirk looked both proud and nervous as he fidgeted with a button on his shirt and seemed to wait for Todd’s reaction.

Todd shrugged. “Do you have a plan beyond that?”

Here Dirk seemed to lose some conviction. “Not really.”

Todd laughed, despite himself. Dirk was still annoying as fuck, but even he had to admit that this was endearing.

“Let’s stop by my house then go to a park or something,” Todd said, brushing past Dirk, who hurried to follow him as he stepped off the curb.

“Okay,” Todd said, “be quiet and follow my lead. It’s just after 7th period, which means that The Narc should be in the lower lot. We have a window of about 3 minutes to get out without being spotted.”

“Who’s The Narc?” Dirk asked.

“She’s someone whose specific job is to drive around the parking lot to catch kids ditching. We’re on a first name basis.”

Dirk giggled slightly. “So you think we can avoid her?”

“Yeah.” Without warning, Todd grabbed Dirk’s arm and pulled him inside a beat up red… something. Maybe a Honda? It was impossible to tell, given the state of the thing. Dirk, however, didn’t mind at all. He was positively bursting with excitement.

It was only about a 10 minute drive, during which Dirk kept up a stream of chatter the entire time. Todd tuned out most of it, but he did learn that Dirk used to have a goldfish and that he strongly believed in aliens. He didn’t, however, listen closely enough to figure out how those two facts were related.

Todd told Dirk to wait outside while he grabbed the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s he had stuffed into the back of his closet. Dirk didn’t.

“Whose is this?” he asked, picking up a Dead Kennedys CD from Todd’s dresser.

Todd shot him a glance. “Mine. We’re in my room.”

“Oh, right of course, that makes sense.”

Dirk continued to explore Todd’s bedroom, asking occasional questions about items. What kind of music did that band play? Did he collect vinyl, or just have the player? Whose room was across the hall? Did he have any pets?

Todd thought he answered pretty damn patiently, considering he was sobering up at this point. 

“You know what?” he finally said, “Fuck it, let’s just stay here. Who needs a park. Drinking outside is trashy anyway.”

Dirk froze. “Drinking? Like… like alcohol?”

“Yeah.” Todd held up the bottle for Dirk to see.

Dirk visibly tried to relax. “Oh, yeah, no of course, yeah that’s fine. I’ve drunk loads of times, really. Too much, some might say--”

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” Todd cut him off.

Here, Dirk actually relaxed. “Thank you. I’ve never actually drunk alcohol before. I kind of would like to try it, maybe, though…”

“Sure,” Todd replied. “Don’t drink too much, though, or you’ll get sick. Actually, let’s eat something first.” He grabbed Dirk by the arm and led him back downstairs to the kitchen. 

Popcorn in the microwave, Todd sat down on one of the chairs around the table. Dirk tentatively took the one next to him. 

“So why exactly did you drag me out of school?” Todd asked.

Dirk shrugged. “You looked terribly bored. And I feel like you’re important to get to know.”

“Why?”

Dirk shrugged. “Intuition.”


	4. Chapter 4

Farah wasn’t sure what she thought of Amanda. She glanced at her sidelong from their position sitting on the gym floor. On one hand, Amanda was undeniably cool. And pretty. On the other hand, Farah wasn’t sure if the knot in her stomach was simply from breaking the rules, or if there was more going on. She decided to ignore it and focus on deciding whether or not she could even trust Amanda.

“So Step Team, huh?” Amanda said. “That’s pretty cool. I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen you guys perform. You any good?”

“I hope so,” Farah laughed. “And you’ve really never seen us perform? We do a routine for the homecoming pep rally every year.”

Amanda laughed. “Dude, do I really look like the kind of person who goes to pep rallies?” She gestured to her “Meat is Murder” t-shirt and Doc Marten boots, raising her eyebrows.

Farah blushed slightly. “Lots of people go to pep rallies, even the burnouts.”

Amanda grinned wider. “I’ve never been to one in my life. Also, I like the term ‘burnout’. Very 1986.”

“Are you purposely making fun of me, or is this just how you talk to people?”

Amanda replied, “This is just how I talk to my friends, man. Mostly insults.”

Before Farah could think of something sassy enough to say back, a voice spoke from the gym doorway.

“What are you ladies doing?”

“Shit,” Amanda muttered, standing up and facing Friedkin. “Farah is the captain of the Step Team,” she said.

“That she is,” Friedkin replied. “Step Team practice ended at 5 o’clock. It is currently almost 7.”

“Really? Damn. I mean, it’s probably my fault that we’re here so late. I came to watch the end of practice and we got distracted just chatting.”

Friedkin looked skeptical. “And you are friends with Farah?”

“Yeah,” Amanda replied earnestly. “Farah’s the best.”

Friedkin narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything more except, “Go home, girls.”

Outside, Amanda turned back towards Farah, face flushed and eyes as bright as her smile. “Dude, he was so pissed. We almost fucking died.”

Farah felt something deep in her chest. Desperately ignoring it, she said, “Eh, we could have taken him.”

Amanda laughed, head thrown back, and Farah couldn’t look away.

* * *

  
  


Todd felt creepy. Dirk was asleep, shoes still on, sprawled across Todd’s half-made bed. And Todd couldn’t stop staring at him.

Dirk’s light colored lashes cast barely-visible shadows on his cheekbones, which sloped in towards his nose, resting above a delicate pink pair of lips. His shoulders softly rose and fell with each breath. Todd was enamored.

He tore his gaze away. Pacing restlessly down the hallway, he turned the sink on high in the bathroom, foregoing the light switch, and threw freezing water at his face. It didn’t seem to do anything, unlike in the movies. Todd still saw Dirk’s peaceful, unconscious face behind his eyelids with every blink.

“What the fuck?” Todd asked himself out loud.

Skipping steps down to the kitchen, he poured himself another whiskey and coke and downed it far too quickly. He dragged himself back to his room and sat facing away from the bed, back resting just below where he knew Dirk’s slender fingers lay limp with sleep.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself again. Todd was used to intrusive thoughts, that came with the territory of a fucked-up brain, but this was new. He wasn’t imagining stabbing Dirk and where he could feasibly hide the body. He just couldn’t stop  _ noticing _ him. In a way, Todd would have preferred the violence. At least then he would know where it came from. This felt so wildly different from anything he usually thought that it was starting to scare him a little bit.

Behind him, Dirk stirred slightly, blinking as he struggled to remember where he was.

“Todd?” he asked, and Todd forced himself to ignore the slight croak in his voice and the fact that the first thing Dirk said upon waking was Todd’s name. He didn’t notice at all.

“Dirk,” he replied instead.

“Did I pass out? That actually can happen from alcohol, right?”

Todd smiled a little in spite of himself as he turned to face Dirk, whose face was smushed adorably against the side of the bed. 

_ No, not adorable at all,  _ Todd silently reprimanded himself.  _ He looks stupid. Very… stupid. _

__ “Yeah, that can happen, but that didn’t happen to you. Do you seriously not remember deciding to take a nap? I mean, I guess you were pretty out of it, but damn.”

Dirk sat up, a worried wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. He did  _ not _ look anything like a confused puppy.

“The last thing I remember is eating popcorn and listening to Elvis Costello.”

“Dude, that was like 4 hours ago. We also watched all of Wayne’s World and I kicked your ass at Mario Kart.”

Dirk’s eyes widened. “Why did you let me drink so much?”

“You had two drinks. I knew you wouldn’t have much of a tolerance, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

Dirk looked as if he might cry. 

“It’s fine,” Todd said hastily. “I mean, it’s not like you were somewhere unsafe. You had me, and we were inside, and it turned out fine.”

Dirk relaxed a bit. “Yeah,” he said, “I had you.”

Todd did not blush, because he wasn’t a 12 year old girl with a crush.

 

* * *

 

Farah felt like a 12 year old girl with crush. She’d given up on trying to hide her all too frequent glances at Amanda’s profile from a few rows over. 

Amanda was surrounded by her usual group. Vogel and Gripps were loud, with Cross occasionally chiming in. Martin and Amanda seemed to exist a little outside of the group, the wry observers with their own in-jokes. Farah may have admitted her crush at this point, but she would not allow herself to be jealous of Martin.

First of all, she had met Amanda like 13 hours ago. Second of all, she didn’t even know if Martin and Amanda were a thing. She could hope that they weren’t, but she would  _ not  _ get jealous. She felt 12, but she wasn’t 12.

A high peal of laughter rang out in the classroom and Farah lifted her head to see Amanda fondly shove Vogel’s arm. Farah felt something drop in her stomach and lowered her head back down to her unfinished worksheet. She desperately wished Lydia were older. 

_ Why does my best friend have to be a freaking freshman? _

__ Mr. Spring shushed Amanda and her group. Amanda had the decency to look sheepish, but the Rowdy Three just rolled their eyes and laughed more.

Martin suddenly turned and met Farah’s eyes. She turned hastily away, embarrassed to have been caught in the act.


	5. Chapter 5

Todd was considering pushing Dirk into a pond. For some reason, their gym teacher thought that fishing was a good physical activity to teach to teenagers. Todd, personally, loved mutilating animals for fun. Oh wait, no he didn’t. He fucking hated anyone who thought that stabbing fish in the face with sharp metal objects was a relaxing activity. 

Todd should not have been irritated at Dirk, considering he shared the sentiment. Where they differed was in the fact that Dirk would not shut up about it. He had also earned them a joint trip to the dean’s office for informing the teacher of that fact very loudly and with several cheerfully delivered swear words. In Dirk’s defense, he had only been quoting Todd. But that fact was why they both ended up in the dean’s office, so Todd didn’t consider it much of a defense.

Sitting across a table from Wilson, Todd brainstormed ways he could creatively maim Dirk with items from within the room.

He could push him over and slam his head in the door. Or he could use a pen from Wilson’s desk and stab a few times, just to send a message. Oh, or maybe he could just give him hundreds of tiny papercuts.

“I assume you boys know why you are here,” Wilson said smoothly, interrupting Todd’s reverie.

Dirk nodded. “And we are very sorry for the way we behaved. Just because we disagree with the curriculum doesn't mean we can say those things.”

“In my defense,” Todd added, “I never had any intention of voicing what I said to the teacher. At least, not in so many words.”

“So your plan was what?” Wilson asked, an edge creeping into her voice. “To simply not participate, or to respectfully voice your opinion?”

“No matter what I did, I would receive a zero,” Todd said. “Grades don’t account for morals. Freshman year, everyone was supposed to be forced to cut open and remove the insides from a dead baby pig, and my refusal to do so earned me a D in the class. I had almost perfect grades on every other assignment. The teacher almost failed me for what he called insubordination.”

Wilson’s face did not change, but remained placid and unreadable. “Did you swear at him, too, or was that reserved for your P.E. teacher?”

Todd blinked. “I didn’t swear at anyone except Dirk,” he protested. “The only one who swore at a teacher was him. Also, I don’t know why you’re asking me about something that happened four years ago.” Todd could feel his voice rising, but didn’t care enough to calm himself down.

Wilson’s glassy expression almost cracked. “Everything you do in high school matters, Mr. Brotzman. I don’t appreciate your tone or your refusal to take responsibility. Mr. Gently, you behaved very disrespectfully in class, and Mr. Brotzman, you have behaved very disrespectfully in my office. I can see here that you both already have a series of detentions. I suppose you won’t even notice another week being added.” She passed two pink slips of paper across the table.

Todd seethed as he silently grabbed his paper and left the office.

“Mr. Brotzman,” Wilson called. Todd paused on the threshold. “I better not be seeing you in my office again. You do want to graduate, don’t you?”

In truth, Todd didn’t give much of a fuck as to whether or not he graduated. But he simply nodded and turned away, barely keeping his cool until he and Dirk were back outside. 

“What the fuck?”

Dirk looked at him nervously.

“I fucking hate everything about this school. There is no way that anyone is honestly convinced that any of that is fair! Authority figures are all high on power and get off on abusing students. I can admit to being rude, but I can’t agree that simply having different morals from the fucked-up ones of the school system equates to me being insubordinate.

“Insubordination. What the fuck even is insubordination? Do they think we’re in the fucking military? Nobody wants to be in this hellhole! Nobody respects people who abuse them for their own enjoyment! Why can’t they understand the simple concept of reciprocity? You don’t respect me, you don’t any fucking respect back.” 

Todd paused, breathing heavily. He was fighting back tears. 

“Todd,” Dirk said softly. Dirk took a tentative step forward and grabbed Todd’s hand, pulling him away from the sidewalk and around the side of the building.

Dirk pulled Todd into a sitting position hidden behind several bushes, out of the eyes of any observers.

“Todd,” he said softly again, “I’m sorry. Everything is fucked up, and I made it worse.”

Todd turned to face Dirk. “Dirk no you didn’t. I was pissed at you at first, but honestly, you have guts. I wish I could have said those things.”

Todd could feel his eyes welling up.

Dirk pulled him closer, wrapping him into a tentative hug. Todd threw his arms around Dirk and buried his face in his shoulder, finally allowing himself to cry.

“I’m sorry if I get your shirt wet,” Todd said, muffled through skin and fabric.

“It’s okay,” Dirk said with a small smile, “It’s what I’m here for.”

These simple words made Todd cry more, and he could feel a panic attack approaching.

He pulled away from Dirk. “Dirk, I think I’m about to have a panic attack. It won’t hurt me, but it might look like I’m having trouble breathing. I promise I’ll be fine. Just… talk to me. Distract me.”

Dirk nodded seriously. “That is one thing I am very good at.”

Todd chuckled. “At least you’re self aware.”

Todd gave in, allowing his breathing to hitch. Dirk told him all about the time he met Thor. As in, the actual Norse god.

Surprisingly, bullshit seemed to shorten this attack. Or maybe it was just Dirk.

* * *

 

 

Farah didn’t used to like punk. She found herself liking it more when Martin was singing it and she got to see the pure joy on Amanda’s face as she beat wildly at the drums.

She was sitting on Vogel’s garage floor watching the Rowdy 3 practice. Well, practice was a strong word. It was more of them messing around and occasionally managing to play half a song.

Farah wasn’t sure how they ever expected to play for an audience, but she didn’t mind at the moment. She felt like she was among friends.

She couldn’t wait to introduce Lydia.

Feeling as if she belonged was a rarity for Farah. Even in Step she felt like an outsider. She was closer with Diaz than with any of her teammates, and being promoted to captain hadn’t helped to narrow that divide. But here, in a musty garage surrounded by teenage delinquents, Farah didn’t feel a divide. 

Sure, they had a band that she wasn’t in, and she was a newcomer, but they wanted her there. They made sure she knew that. Especially Amanda. Farah felt something flutter in her stomach as she watched Amanda run her hand through her hair.

At that moment, Amanda grinned down at Farah. “Hanging in there, Farah?”

Farah smiled back. “Yep! You guys aren’t half bad.”

Amanda laughed. “Thanks for the raving endorsement.”

“Yo, we should put that on the posters for our next gig,” Vogel said.

“Hell yeah!” Gripps added.

Amanda rolled her eyes fondly. “Guess we’re hiring you for PR,” she said to Farah.

Farah grinned. “I’m honored.”

 

* * *

 

“Fuck me,” Todd muttered, glowering down at the blood now dripping from his hand. “How fucking old are we? Why do we even need to cut out flash cards?”

Dirk glanced up at him. “You all right?”

Todd simply held up his hand in response. Dirk’s eyes widened comically. “Y-you’re bleeding.”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” Dirk shook his head slightly. “Um, you should uh, go to the nurse or something. Or wash it, at least. Or it could get infected and you could probably die or something--I don’t know. I just know that they can swell up and get all puffy and you’ve got such nice hands you wouldn’t want that one to be all puffy. And besides, don’t you play guitar? You couldn’t with--”

“How do you know I play guitar?” Todd interrupted Dirk’s monologue.

Dirk seemed happy for the change of subject. “I saw it in your room when I was at your house. When we were hanging out. Like friends.” He meaningfully maintained eye contact with Todd.

“You’re so fucking weird,” Todd said and stood to get Mr. Spring’s attention. 

“Mr. Brotzman? May I help you?”

“Yeah, uh, my hand is bleeding.” He held up his hand higher, his entire left arm now covered in blood.

“Oh my,” Mr. Spring stammered, “You should go to the nurse. Take Mr. Gently with you, I don’t want you to pass out.” Todd started to pull out his pass book, but Mr. Spring stopped him with a wave. “No, no just go. Just go.”

Dirk led Todd down the hallway, Todd suspected in order to avoid seeing his bleeding hand.

“Hey Dirk.”

Dirk didn’t look back. “Yeah?”

“We should ditch.”

At this Dirk stopped walking and turned to Todd. He kept his eyes deliberately above shoulder-level. “Again?”

“Yeah, why not? We don’t need to get drunk again, especially you, but we can go somewhere. Unless you have something you need to do.”

Dirk looked wary. “No, but your arm.”

“If we leave, I can wash it properly at home. I don’t even think they have neosporin at school. They aren’t allowed to administer anything without a fucking doctor’s note.”

Dirk considered for a moment. “And if we get caught?”

“More detentions? Maybe a Saturday school? Who gives a shit?”

Dirk shrugged. “All right, you've convinced me. Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

This wasn’t how Farah thought her day would go. It seemed that despite Amanda’s undeniable awesomeness, she was a pretty bad influence. It was 11:30 am, and Farah should have been in 4th period, but instead she was sitting next to Amanda on the swingset in the Brotzman’s backyard. 

“Dude,” Amanda said, “you should come to a show with me this Saturday. The Maine are in town. I don’t really wanna go with the guys because they can get, well, rowdy. You know how they are. Put that in a mosh pit.” 

Farah laughed. “Honestly that sounds kind of hilarious.”

“Only because you didn’t get kicked out of The Crocodile with them.”

“Fair enough. Anyway, I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard of that band--”

“The Maine.”

“Yeah, them,” Farah couldn’t help but roll her eyes a little bit. She did admire Amanda’s passion, though. “I’ve never heard of them, but I’d love to go anyway.”

Amanda’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Awesome!” Amanda leaned precariously over the gap between their swings and hugged Farah. “When you said you’d never heard of them, I assumed you’d say no, but I’m really glad you said yes. This is gonna be so fun.”

Farah laughed nervously, wondering how much longer she could handle Amanda’s arms around her without doing something stupid.

But at that moment, Amanda pulled away and said, “What the fuck?”

Farah followed her gaze to see Amanda’s brother Todd and Dirk Gently approaching them.

Dirk caught sight of the girls and grinned, waving enthusiastically. “Hi Amanda! Hi Farah!”

Amanda grinned back and returned his greeting; Farah offered a more halfhearted wave.

“How do you know Dirk?” Farah asked Amanda.

“He introduced himself on the way out of a detention. What about you?”

“He’s in my science class, and I’m pretty sure I saw him earn said detention,” Farah replied.

* * *

  
  


“You stole a frog?” Todd asked incredulously.

Dirk had the decency to look sheepish. “Well, actually, I stole about twenty of them. I really had a feeling I wouldn’t get caught, but I guess my feelings are wrong occasionally…”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Todd, be nice,” Amanda admonished, “and don’t pretend like you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if you were supposed to cut open a frog. Those things would be free in an instant.”

Todd still nodded, but kept a slight glower on his face.

“I thought it was hilarious, to be honest,” Farah said. “I would never have dared to do something like that myself, but Zimmerfield’s reaction was amazing.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dirk retorted, “ _ you _ didn’t almost get dissected along with the frogs.”

Amanda laughed, but looked slightly bemused. “Why did they have live frogs, anyway? Aren’t they supposed to arrive dead?”

Dirk shrugged. “Apparently not. Which worked out well for me.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Amanda, did you hear The Maine are gonna be in town? We should go see them.”

Dirk’s eyes lit up curiously, oblivious to Farah’s smile fading ever-so-slightly. “What’s that?”

“It’s a band,” Todd replied, managing not to sound quite as exasperated as he felt. He wasn’t sure why everything Dirk did was tiring, but it really was.

“Oh,” Amanda replied, “uh, yeah, I heard. I was gonna go with Farah, actually.”

Todd held Amanda’s gaze coolly. “You can always use a chaperone, right?”

Amanda knew better than to argue. Todd always found a way to turn their parents against her. 

“Yeah, I guess,” she conceded, not meeting the glance she knew Farah was directing her way.

“Awesome,” Todd said, “it’ll be fun.”

Amanda forced herself to nod, wondering why the hell her brother was always trying to ruin her love life.

* * *

  
  


“So,” Dirk muttered in class for what felt like the thousandth time, “what’s this concert going to be like?”

Todd waited for Mr. Zimmerfield to pass behind them before answering. “It’s gonna be like, fuck, I don’t know. It’s gonna be like a concert.”

Dirk frowned at him. “Well there’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“There’s no need to ask stupid questions,” Todd shot back.

“It’s not a stupid question. I’ve never been to a concert before.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “What have you done?”

“Lots of things. I’ve… well, I’ve, um… I’ve rescued a kitten from a tree. I bet  _ you _ haven’t done that before.”

“Because that’s not a thing that actual real people do.”

“Well obviously it is, since I’ve done it.”

“Okay, but are you really a real person?” Todd asked, smirking.

Dirk ruffled. “Of course I’m--oh, you were joking. Right. Yes, I suppose that is a little funny.”

Todd’s smirk blossomed into a grin. “Anyway, just follow my lead at the concert and you’ll be fine. Make sure to stick with either me or Amanda, though. Otherwise you might like, die or something.”

“I could  _ die _ ?”

“I’m joking, Dirk.”

“Right, of course.” Dirk didn’t look convinced.

* * *

  
  


“You know,” Amanda muttered to Farah, “they’re not as annoying as I thought they would be.”

Farah smiled. “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

Amanda wryly returned her smile. “Oh, no. Because they’re a million times worse.”

They had only been waiting in line outside The Showbox for about 15 minutes, but Amanda was ready to kill a man. Or rather, a boy. Or two boys. Named Todd and Dirk.

Todd wasn’t the best older brother ever, but he had never pissed Amanda off too much. Mostly, he just moped around and smoked weed, keeping to himself. And Amanda had liked Dirk a lot, at first. He was outgoing and charming and not too difficult on the eyes. But something about them together just got under Amanda’s skin.

Dirk was regaling the group with tales of London, none of which could possibly have been true. He claimed to have had a reputation back home of being “the sort of person one asks when they need a problem solved.”

Apparently, he had rescued countless lost cats, returned several misplaced horses, uncovered secrets of a university professor, and mastered hypnotism. Amanda might have been charmed by this if he had taken a breath once during any of the stories, or if he had not in turn caused Todd to argue each point he made.

“Dirk, that’s not fucking possible.”

“It is, too. I’ll hypnotize you right now if you don’t believe me.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Okay, go ahead.”

Dirk seemed to mentally prepare for something, but fortunately, they were all saved by the line suddenly surging forward.

“The doors are open, thank fuck,” said Amanda.

Farah giggled nervously. “So what do we do now?”

“Don’t worry,” Todd told her, “they’ll just check your bag to make sure you’re not bringing in too much water or whatever and then they’ll scan our tickets and let us in.”

“No secret password or anything?” Todd smiled at her. “No secret password.”

Amanda didn’t like the way Todd was now looking at Farah, so she grabbed the other girl’s arm and pulled her towards the doors with her. Farah’s brows came together slightly, but she said nothing.

“Jesus,” Amanda heard Todd mutter behind her, “possessive much?” Amanda chose to pretend that Farah definitely didn’t hear him say that and kept her hand on Farah’s arm until they were all well inside the venue.

“What now?” Farah asked. They had managed to push through the small crowd that was already inside and ended up near the front of the pit. 

“Anyone want a drink?” Todd replied.

Farah and Dirk both accepted his offer, but Amanda refused. She could get her own drink, thank you very much. She’d had enough of Todd’s shit. She knew he was only offering to get closer to Farah. Well, he wasn’t gonna do that, at least not if Amanda had anything to do with it.


	7. Chapter 7

Todd regretted that third coke. He had to piss worse than he could remember ever having had to piss before. He relayed this information to Amanda and slipped away into the hallway alongside the stage. The hallway was deserted except for a shadowy figure he could just make out near the doors at the end. 

As he got closer, he thought he recognized the slope of those shoulders, and the shape of that haircut… could it be? 

He sprinted back down the hallway and grabbed Dirk’s shoulder, shouting, “Dirk you need to see this!” over the pounding speakers. Dirk returned his urgent stare with a bemused one, but followed Todd down the hallway.

When Dirk saw him, he stopped short.

“Todd,” he whispered, leaning in so that Todd could feel his breath on his ear, “is that who I think it is?”

Todd nodded. “Well, we’re absolutely fucked,” Dirk said. Todd blinked in surprise at hearing Dirk swear, but nodded his agreement. 

“We have to get out of here.” Todd turned to go tell the girls but was stopped by Dirk’s hand on his arm.

“Wait, there’s someone with him.” Sure enough, when Todd turned around, there was someone else at the end of the hallway, being held underneath Friedkin’s arm. It was impossible to make out any features in the low light, but it was clearly a young girl who likely didn’t want to be there.

“Friedkin doesn’t have a daughter, does he?” Dirk asked hopefully. Todd shook his head. Dirk swallowed, but his face hardened with resolve. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and zoomed in on Friedkin and Mystery Girl with his camera.

_ Click! _ Dirk’s phone’s artificial shutter sound echoed down the hallway. Friedkin’s head whipped towards them and his eyes widened with recognition. 

“Shit, run!” Todd grabbed Dirk’s arm and pulled him back out into the pit. He motioned to Amanda that they needed to go and she followed despite the knitting of her eyebrows. Farah looked terrified, and Todd took a moment to feel bad that her very first concert experience was going to be ruined by something so stupid, but he needed to focus on getting out.

Todd bobbed and weaved expertly through the crowd with Dirk, Amanda, and Farah all in tow. Finally, they pushed their way out of a side exit and caught their breath in the alley next to the venue.

“What the hell happened in there?” Amanda demanded. “They were in the middle of their set! Farah didn’t even get to hear ‘Fucked Up Kids’!”

“I’m sorry, Amanda,” said Todd, “but we, uh, we saw Friedkin in there.”

“Like the dean?” Amanda looked skeptical.

Todd nodded. “He was with some girl who looked like she was probably in high school. Dirk tried to take a picture but his volume was up and he saw us, so we ran.”

Amanda turned to Dirk. “You really didn’t think to turn down your volume?”

“I forgot?”

Amanda sighed. “Did you at least get a good picture?”

Dirk help up his phone to show her a blurry image that looked like two blobs next to a bathroom door. 

“So I guess that’s a no.”

“Uh, guys?” Farah’s voice came from behind Amanda, who whirled around to see the door they came out of was ajar. And Friedkin was standing on the threshold. 

“Fuck.”

“Having fun, kids?” Friedkin asked coolly. 

They were dumbstruck. Farah glanced between the faces of her friends as no one spoke. She knew what she had to do.

Taking a step forward and putting on her best adult-winning smile, Farah replied, “Yes, Mr. Friedkin, we’re having a lot of fun! The Maine are great so far. I assume you’re a fan?”

Next to her, Amanda’s jaw dropped.

Friedkin didn’t soften. “Oh, sure, I’m a fan. I don’t know about you four being at a place like this, though.”

“What do you mean?” Farah asked innocently.

“Lots of bad things happen in the darkness of a concert venue.”

“You mean like older men preying on teenage girls?” Dirk seemed surprised to hear his own voice interrupt them.

Friedkin’s gaze moved to focus on Dirk. “Among other things, I guess.”

Dirk no longer seemed to have the ability to speak, so Farah stepped back in.

“Look, Friedkin, we have photographic proof of you with a minor.”

Friedkin’s eyes narrowed. “Who was it, then?”

“Uh.” Okay, maybe Farah had spoken too soon. 

The dean smirked. “Thought so. Don’t you be getting into any trouble, now.”

And with that, he disappeared back into the venue.

“Dude,” Amanda whispered, “that was so badass.”

* * *

  
  


Todd checked his phone in the dim light of the diner. 2:03 am. Fantastic. Still no messages from his parents.

“So what are we gonna do?” Amanda asked from across the table. “We don’t have anything concrete enough to get him fired.”

“We find proof,” Dirk replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we figure out where he goes to find girls--or maybe just the one girl, we don’t know yet if this is an isolated incident or not--and we follow him. Then we get a real picture.”

“So how do you suggest we do that?” Farah asked. 

Dirk frowned. “I’m not sure. We need a way to find out where he goes.”

“Well,” said Amanda, “We already know he must at least occasionally go to The Showbox. He probably frequents other venues. Probably not bars, though, since he seems to go for minors. Or minor.” She paused, thinking for a moment. 

“The girl looked about our age, maybe a little bit younger. Probably no younger than middle school. But for Friedkin to know her, he might have first scouted her out at school--”

“--so if we ask enough girls around school, we can probably figure out who it was,” Farah finished.

“Exactly.”

Dirk smiled. “Well if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s talking to strangers.”

Amanda laughed. “So you guys can try to figure out who the girl is, and Farah and I can try and find out more about Friedkin’s side of things.”

“Wait,” said Todd, “do I not get a say in what I do?”

“You agreed to be Dirk’s babysitter when you became friends with him,” Amanda shot back.

Todd groaned. “Why can’t you walk around talking to randos with him?”

“Social anxiety.”

“I’m the one with social anxiety.”

“We’re siblings, we’re interchangeable.”

“Not how that works,” Todd protested.

“Guys,” Farah interrupted, “cut it out. Todd, you’re going with Dirk. I need Amanda and the Rowdies to help me, because I think I have a plan, but it might involve some minor breaking and entering.”

Amanda stuck her tongue out at Todd and turned to grin at Farah. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come in your delinquency. I feel like a proud mama.” She wiped a mock tear. Farah laughed.

Dirk was frowning. “This is all very good, but honestly, I’m quite offended.”

Amanda and Todd exchanged a glance. “Well, uh--”

Amanda’s (probably poor) would-be attempt to make Dirk feel better was interrupted by their waitress delivering four stacks of fluffy, steaming pancakes to their table.

Dirk grinned down at his plate. “You know what? I’m no longer offended. Also I would to personally thank all of you, as Americans, for bringing these lovely pancakes into the world.”

This declaration was met with grins and a round of “you’re welcome”s before syrup was poured and delicious, delicious carbs were devoured.

 

* * *

 

Todd was sulking. He knew it was shitty, but he was hungover, tired, and pissed off, so he felt as if it was his right to sulk.

Dirk was oblivious, or at least didn’t care, and was busy chatting with some freshman Todd had never seen before. Again.

The only piece of information they had to go on was that the girl at the concert had brown hair. Dirk seemed to also think that his hunches carried weight, but they’d been through at least 10 girls already and none of them knew anything.

“Alright, thank you anyway.” Dirk slouched down next to Todd on the curb outside the school.

“Nothing, I assume?”

Dirk nodded, sighing. “I feel like we should have found her already. I really thought that second girl was right.”

“Mr. Spring’s daughter?”

Dirk nodded. “Her name is Lydia. Apparently she‘s good friends Farah and owns a corgi. More importantly, she was at that concert and she has long brown hair.”

“She does seem like a likely candidate,” Todd admitted. “Maybe Friedkin threatened her if she told anyone. Or maybe she was there willingly.”

“Hm, I suppose either of those could be the case. Maybe we can get one of the Rowdies to snoop through her stuff. Maybe they could steal her phone?”

“Dirk, that’s not only illegal, but also really shitty. Plus, isn’t there an easier way? You said she knows Farah…”

Dirk sat up suddenly. “You’re right! If she’s close with Farah, she might be willing to tell her, even if it’s a secret! Brilliant work, Todd!” He jumped up and  stretched out his hand to help Todd up.

He didn’t really need it, but Dirk looked so eager to please, and he was smiling at him with that intense blue stare…

Todd took Dirk’s hand and tried to focus on anything other than how soft his skin was and how happily he was looking at him. He could think about… those trees. Yes, the green trees that were blowing gently in the wind, just like Dirk’s ha--no. He was not thinking about Dirk’s hair and how soft it looked. 

Dirk dropped Todd’s hand and leaned in closer to his face. Todd’s breath hitched slightly involuntarily. Dirk peered at him.

“Are you alright?”

Todd blinked. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, spaced out there for a second.”

“It’s quite alright! But let’s go, we have work to do!”

“Right.” Todd shook his head to clear it and followed Dirk inside.


	8. Chapter 8

“Farah,” Amanda hissed, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

Farah held a finger up to her lips to silence the other girl. Amanda widened her eyes in a frustrating attempt to silently communicate, but Farah looked away and instead focused her gaze on Martin. 

He stuck a bobby pin he had borrowed from Amanda gently into the lock on the door and shimmied it around. He leaned in close, listening. The door swung open and he gestured for the girls to follow him inside.

“This place looks weird in the daytime,” Amanda commented.

Farah nodded in agreement. “It feels wrong, like we’re in another dimension.”

Martin let out a low chuckle. “Just follow me and we should stay in this dimension. I know this place like my favorite baseball bat.”

Farah shot Amanda a quizzical look. Amanda just grinned and shrugged.

They crept down an eerily empty corridor. “So, what’s the plan here?” Amanda asked.

“We find a place to hide and wait for tonight’s show, then we sneak out of said hiding place and look for Friedkin,” Farah replied.

“Good ol’ Hugo,” came Martin’s gravelly voice from in front of them, “Shoulda known he’d get himself into some trouble.”

Amanda snorted. “You really didn’t expect this?”

Martin turned around and smiled. “Nah, I totally knew he was a creep.” He shot Amanda a quick wink. Farah forced herself not to seem jealous. Martin shot her a look anyway. Farah would swear he was psychic or telepathic or something.

“This should work,” Martin said, pushing open a sticker-covered door. Inside were several brooms and various cleaning supplies.

“They don’t clean the venue until after the show,” Martin told the girls, “so it got cleaned last night and will be again tonight. Until then, we’re golden to hide in here.”

“Rad,” Amanda said,”but, um, guys… I may have a slight problem.” Martin raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have to pee.”

Farah couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Just go quick and come back. We have a while before anyone shows up, right?” Martin nodded.

Amanda silently closed the door behind her and Martin turned to Farah. “So, you got a thing for drummer girl, huh.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’m good at reading people,” Martin said matter-of-factly. “All us rowdies can do it. There’s something different about us. We’re kinda like that mousy kid, the one who thinks he’s psychic.”

“Dirk?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. He’s got something different, too. Not like us, but still different.”

“Do you know why?” Farah asked.

Martin shook his head. “Hard to say.”

“Right. Maybe I’ll ask Dirk about it.”

Martin simply blinked and turned back towards the door, seemingly expecting something. As if on cue, Amanda opened the door and squeezed in between her two friends.

“Hope there wasn’t too much awkward silence,” she joked, bumping Farah’s shoulder with her own.

“Nope, we’re basically best friends now,” Farah replied. Martin shot her a wink, and Farah thought she was starting to understand why Amanda was so close with the rowdies.

* * *

  
  


“Now we wait,” Todd sighed as he slouched back onto his bed.

Dirk looked up at him from his seat on the floor. “How long do you think they’ll be?”

“Amanda said they would probably be a few hours, so we have until around 7 or 8, I’d guess.”

Dirk nodded, but frowned. “What are we going to do if we do get evidence?”

“I don’t know. Show it to administration, I guess.”

“Right. A handful of delinquents, a random British kid who’s been at the school for mere months, and a stoner who’s on the verge of dropping out. We’re going to do that. And they’ll believe us.”

“What other option do we have, Dirk?”

“We get someone to help us. Someone on the inside, perhaps.” Dirk stood up and started pacing across Todd’s cluttered floor.

“We think the girl was probably Lydia Spring. Who would be more concerned about her safety than, say, one of her parents?” He stopped pacing at turned to look Todd in the eyes.

“You’re saying we should get Mr. Spring to help?”

Dirk nodded. “He’s our best bet. He’s tenured, first of all. Higher-ups in the district clearly respect him. And he has the most reason to be worried. If we approach them, it’ll seem like we’re just trying to get out of detention. If Mr. Spring does, it’ll come from a place of concern for his daughter.”

“So how do we get him to help us?”

“That’s the hard part. Any ideas?”

Todd shook his head. He paused. “Actually, I think I might.”

 

* * *

 

“That’s an opener, I think it’s go time,” Amanda murmured, slowly pushing the closet door open.

Looking both ways, she gestured for Martin and Farah to follow her. They quickly blended in with the crowd and started down the hallway where Todd had seen Friedkin before.

“There he is,” Farah hissed, holding her arm out to stop Martin and Amanda from walking any further.

At the end of the hallway, the trio could make out Friedkin with the same brown-haired girl from before, but tonight she was clearly unwilling. He had his arm in a vice grip around her as she struggled to pull away. Farah could see his mouth moving, whispering something in the girl’s ear. She just wished she could see the girl’s face…

“Wait.” Farah took a few steps forward before Martin grabbed her arm.

“Where you going, Step Team?”

“I know that girl.”

* * *

  
  


Dirk leaned in towards Todd. “Mr. Spring is kind of weird.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Todd whispered back, “but we need to be here.”

They were seated on overstuffed chairs in Mr. Spring’s living room. Todd, after years of changing bad grades, easily got into the school’s computer system and found his address. When they knocked on the door, Mr. Spring didn’t seem at all surprised to see them, but simply offered them tea and left them to wait in the living room.

He re-entered the room, set a tray of steaming tea on the coffee table, and took a seat opposite the two boys.

“So, what can I do for you kids?”

Todd and Dirk exchanged a glance.

“Well,” Todd began, “we have a sort of favor to ask. It involves your daughter?”

Now Mr. Spring looked slightly surprised. “Lydia? What about her?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “How much do you know?”

“Uh…”

“It’s about Lydia and Hugo Friedkin,” Dirk said and Mr. Spring visibly relaxed. “What would we know about, though?”

“Nothing important. What’s the deal with Friedkin?”

Dirk didn’t look satisfied, but he said, “We think he is trying to take advantage of Lydia. We saw them together at a concert a few days ago and she looked like she was trying to get away. We got a picture, but it’s not very clear. We currently have some friends trying to find them and get more concrete proof. What we need you to do is convince administration and get him fired.”

Mr. Spring stared at Dirk. “Take advantage of her? Is she okay?”

“I spoke to her yesterday and she seemed fine, but I have a feeling the she was threatened not to tell anyone, because I couldn’t get any information out of her.”

Mr. Spring visibly paled. “I know Hugo. I know what he’s like. Do you know where Lydia is now?”

Dirk shook his head as Todd’s phone vibrated in his pocked. He pulled it out to see a text from Amanda.

 

_ we found her. it’s lydia for sure. we got a picture, be home in 20. _

 

“I know where she is,” Todd said. 


	9. Chapter 9

“It’s Lydia,” Farah whispered, “she’s my best friend. We have to get her out of here.”

“We need to get a picture so that we can fuck up Friedkin’s life,” Amanda hissed back.

Next to them, Martin showed the girls his phone screen. He had a beautifully clear picture of Friedkin and a scared-looking Lydia Spring.

“How did you do that?” Farah asked.

“Not important right now,” Martin replied and began to move towards Friedkin and Lydia. “You two wait for me outside where we came in earlier,” he told them over his shoulder.

Amanda glanced at Farah and shrugged. They dutifully headed outside.

“What’s he doing?” Farah asked nervously.

“Dunno, but I trust him to get Lydia out.”

Farah nodded reluctantly. “I hope so. I feel a little sick.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Amanda put her hand on Farah’s shoulder. “Lydia is gonna be fine.”

Farah swallowed. “Thanks, Amanda. I’m just scared, you know?”

Amanda nodded and pulled Farah in for a hug. Farah took a deep breath and noticed the scent of her hair. Vanilla mixed with cigarette smoke and something… just Amanda. Farah supposed it was skin or sweat or something, but liked to imagine was Amanda’s essence manifesting as a scent in her hair.

Amanda pulled back and looked Farah in the eye and it took all her willpower not to lean forward and kiss her. Now was not the time. She was still worried about Lydia. She wanted her first kiss to be something special.

Amanda checked her phone. “It’s been 15 minutes, do you think Martin is having trouble?”

“Maybe we should go back in and see,” Farah suggested.

Amanda nodded. “It can’t hurt.”

They made it back to the hallway and Martin was nowhere to be found, but Friedkin and Lydia were right where they left them.

“What the hell,” Amanda whispered, “where did he go?”

Farah shrugged. “I’m more concerned about Lydia right now.” She marched forward, making a beeline for the pair.

“Farah, what are you doing?” Amanda called, eyes wide.

“What needs to be done.”

Farah stepped up behind Friedkin and roughly clapped her hand onto his shoulder and spun him around to face her, motioning for Lydia to run. She did, and Amanda grabbed her by the arm and led her away.

“What do you think you’re doing with my best friend?” Farah asked, voice dangerously low.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Friedkin shot back.

“Get you fired and arrested,” Farah replied coolly. 

“Good luck with that. Administration all suck my dick.”

Farah gritted her teeth. “Doubt they’ll be able to deny photographic evidence submitted by a respected member of staff.”

“I am the only respected member of staff,” he spat back, “no one can touch me. I earned my power, and I intend to keep it.”

Farah felt something snap. Before she realized what she was doing, her fist connected with his throat.

She felt the blood drain from her face. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ What did she just do? 

“You’re a dick,” she said and turned on her heel and ran without waiting to see Friedkin’s reaction, grabbing Amanda and Farah who were still waiting down the hall.

They sprinted out into the night and didn’t stop until they were several blocks away.

“Holy shit!” Amanda exclaimed, trying to catch her breath. “That was so  _ cool!  _ You’re such a badass!”

Farah fought a smile and looked at the ground. “I mean, it was just a gut reaction. I’m gonna get in so much trouble…”

Amanda sensed Farah’s worry and pulled her in. “Hey, at least if you get detention, Dirk and Todd will be there with you,” she murmured and Farah could feel her breath on the side of her neck.

Farah giggled. “Yeah, I guess it won’t be so bad.” Farah pulled back slightly and met Amanda’s gaze. She was smiling softly and looked utterly... fond.

“Oh my god!” Lydia exclaimed, causing the older girls to jump. “Will you two just kiss already?”

“Oh, um, Lydia, w-we, uh,” Farah managed.

“I’ll turn around if it makes you feel better,” Lydia said, doing so.

Amanda laughed. “Hey, if the freshman thinks it’s best, then maybe we should listen.”

Farah felt her mouth drop open slightly. “I mean, if you--do you want to…?”

“I do if you do,” Amanda replied. Farah nodded, unable to force out anything coherent.

Amanda took a step closer and suddenly her lips were on Farah’s and it wasn’t anything like she had imagined. It was both better and worse, if she was being honest with herself. 

Amanda’s lips were soft and gentle and her hands rested on Farah’s waist, causing butterflies to erupt in Farah’s stomach. Farah’s eyes fluttered closed almost of their own volition and she pushed closer to Amanda, wanting more. She was consumed with the sweet scent she had noticed earlier, and Amanda was just as eager.

“Uh, guys,” Lydia’s voice made Amanda and Farah jump again. “Not that I don’t fully support you, but we really gotta get going. I just got a text from my dad and he wants me home right now.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Amanda said, running a hand through her hair and laughing breathlessly, “I got a text from Todd earlier saying we should meet him and Dirk at your house.”

“Let’s go, then,” Farah agreed, bashfully meeting Amanda’s eyes. Amanda grinned.

* * *

  
  


“Where’s Martin,” was the first thing out of Todd’s mouth when the girls arrived, “I thought he was with you?”

“He texted me,” said Amanda, “He’s still at the venue. In his words: ‘I would have been more subtle, but I guess you guys got the job done. I’m gonna stay for the free concert, see you tomorrow.’”

Todd nodded. “Lydia, you okay?”

“Yep! It’s been an eventful night, though, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me about it,” Farah muttered behind her.

“Right,” Dirk stood in the middle of the room, more commanding than Todd ever imagined him. It was kinda hot. Wait. No, it wasn’t he looked… stupid or something. 

_ You know what,  _ Todd thought,  _ fuck it. He’s hot. I will just never tell him that.  _

“So everyone is on the same page,” Dirk continued, “here’s the plan: we need Martin to send the picture to Mr. Spring so that he can take it to the principal tomorrow, hopefully getting Friedkin fired. None of us know anything. We don’t need to get in more trouble.”

“Yeah,” Amanda joked, “especially Farah.”

“Farah? What did she do?” Todd asked.

“Uh,” Farah said, “I might have punched Friedkin in the throat.”

Todd grinned. “Badass.” He gave Farah a fist bump.

Dirk’s eyebrows knitted together. “Well, I guess we’ll see you in detention. Unless he gets fired, I guess.”

“Come on, Dirk,” Said Todd, playfully shoving him, “You know you admire that. You fucking hate Friedkin.”

“Language,” Mr. Spring’s tired voice came from across the room. It sounded more out of obligation than actual concern.

Dirk smiled slightly. “Alright, it is kind of awesome.”

“Hell yeah!” said Amanda.


	10. Chapter 10

“Is this you?” Dirk asked Mr. Spring, pointing to an ancient-looking picture on his desk.

Mr. Spring glanced over. “Hm? Oh, yes, that was me in around 1887, I think. I lived in England at the time,” he said absentmindedly, still staring down at his phone.

Dirk froze and turned to Todd. “1887? That was 200 years ago, Mr. Spring.”

“Yes, yes,” he said. Then, he paused. He met Dirk’s eyes.

“Shit.”

“Uh, Mr. Spring,” Todd asked, “are you… immortal?”

Mr. Spring seemed to have an internal debate, but finally said, “Not exactly. I’m an inventor. I created a device that allowed me to travel forward in time.”

“And you can’t get back?” Dirk guessed.

“Oh, no I can get back just fine. The only reason I’m still here is because of Lydia. She really is 14.”

“Oh. Right. Well, that seems… plausible.”

“Hm,” Mr. Spring agreed,turning back to his phone, apparently deeming the situation defused. “I can show you sometime if you like.”

“I would like that more than pretty much anything,” Todd said. Dirk nodded in agreement.

The bell rang overhead. “Ah, well,” Mr. Spring said, “That’s 6th period over, which means Principal Riggins should be in his office.” He shot a meaningful glance at Dirk. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Positive,” Dirk replied immediately. 

Mr. Spring sighed. “All right, then, I supposed I’ll be back.” He ambled out of the classroom, leaving Dirk and Todd alone.

“So,” Todd began, “what was with the weird reaction to Riggins?”

Dirk tensed. “He’s my uncle.”

“Oh.”

There was a moment of weighted silence.

“So do you not like him, or…?”

“He’s fine,” Dirk said, “maybe not cut out to be a parent, but he tries. He’s the reason Friedkin hates me so much.”

“Wait, really? Why?”

“He tried to fire Friedkin, but obviously didn’t manage to, and Friedkin took it out on me.”

“Oh, shit that sucks,” Todd replied lamely. He wished there were more he could say. 

Dirk shrugged. “It’s alright. I doubt he’ll keep his job this time.”

“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!” Mr. Spring’s voice echoed in the doorway. “We can’t get him, boys.” He slumped back into the chair at his desk.

“Why not?”

“He quit. That motherfucker quit. He knew he couldn’t recover from this and now he’s god-knows-where.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Spring. This is frustrating as hell,” Todd offered.

“She’s my daugher,” Mr. Spring dropped his head into his hands, “She’s all I have, and he thought he could--” He shook his head violently.

“So be it,” he said resignedly, “I guess this is it, boys. I can write you both a pass to go home, if you want.”

“That’d be nice, thank you Mr. Spring. We can try and help you find Friedkin if you want,” Todd said.

Mr. Spring waved his hand, “No, no, it’s not your responsibility. Go enjoy being teenagers in an age of opportunity.” He handed Todd two pink slips that for once, weren’t for detention.

“Thanks for everything, Mr. Spring,” Dirk called on the way out.

“Not a thing,” he replied. “Just glad you boys came to me. Come visit me every now and then.”

Todd and Dirk nodded and smiled, and then they were free. At least for the afternoon.


	11. Chapter 11

Amanda’s laughter was the most beautiful sound in the world, Farah thought as she lay across her chest, basking in the warmth of the fire.

It was one of the last warm days of the year, and the Brotzman siblings decided to celebrate by having all 7 of their friends over for a fire.

Amanda and Farah lay on one side of the fire, Farah playing with Amanda’s hair and both girls chatting with Lydia.

The rowdies were having a rock throwing contest behind the swingset to see who could hit the most different neighbors’ houses. So far Vogel was in the lead with 6.

Todd and Dirk claimed the other side of the fire, and Todd was growing more anxious by the minute. 

Dirk had never looked so beautiful as he did bathed in firelight. His hair glowed red and shadows played across his face, making him look like a Greek god every time he laughed. Or moved. Or breathed. Fuck, Todd had it bad. It was all he could do not to lean over and jump him.

“Todd,” Dirk said, cocking his head to the side, “are you all right? You’re staring at me.”

Todd blinked. “Um, I just… yeah, I was staring at you.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you look good. You’re not bad-looking, you know.”

Dirk’s brow furrowed. “But why are  _ you _ looking at me? You don’t,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “ _ like _ me, do you?”

Todd blushed. “I, uh--” he spluttered.

“Because you’re too good for me, Todd, really. Honestly, you’re funny, you’re clever, you’re also ‘not bad-looking’. I’m.. annoying, mostly.”

“What? No, you’re not annoying. You’re incredibly smart and considerate and you are the most stubbornly optimistic person I have ever met.” 

“Todd,” Dirk said softly. Todd wasn’t sure if it was the reflection of the fire or if Dirk had tears welling in his eyes.

“Hey Lydia,” Amanda said loudly, jerking both boys out of the moment, “can you do what you did for me and Farah real quick?”

Lydia grinned. “Sure thing, Manda. Hey guys! Kiss already!”

“We’ll turn around if you want,” Farah added, and all three giggled.

Todd felt his face burning and saw Dirk’s doing the same. It looked way cuter on Dirk, he knew that without question.

“Oh, um,” Dirk glanced over at the girls to see that they were already turned around.

Todd shrugged. “I mean, if you want to…”

Dirk smiled. “I want to.” With that, he leaned in. And in the dying amber light of the fire, Todd let him.


End file.
